Epiphany
by Shae-Lynn1
Summary: Postep for Risk. Elliot tries to come to grips with what he's done.


Title: Epiphany  
Author: Shae-Lynn  
E-mail: benson_stabler@hotmail.com  
Category: drama  
Pairing: none   
Date: March 14, 2003  
Feedback: Please review! 

Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: I make no money off writing these stories. The   
characters don't belong to me, etc.  
Summary: post-ep for Risk  
Warnings: sort of SPOILERS for Risk (and sort of for Wrath)  
Note: This is my contribution to the Lyric Wheel Challenge. The   
story is thematically linked to the lyrics below:  


**********  
_Staind - Epiphany  
  
Your words to me just a whisper  
Your face so unclear  
I try to pay attention  
Your words just disappear  
  
`Cause it's always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said  
  
So I speak to you in riddles  
`Cause my words get in my way.  
I smoke the whole thing to my head  
And feel it wash away  
`Cause I can't take anymore of this, I want to come apart  
Or dig myself a little hole inside your precious heart  
  
Cause its always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said  
  
I am nothing more than a little boy inside  
That cries out for attention though I always try to hide  
'Cause I talk to you like children, though I don't know how I feel   
But I know I'll do the right thing  
If the right thing is revealed  
  
`Cause its always raining in my head  
Forget all the things I should have said._

**********  


Outside the bathroom window the world was gray. Rain pounded from the clouds and Elliot looked at his watch again, not entirely sure whether it was day or night. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes, finding it slightly ironic, since he hadn't slept all night. He ran a hand over his stubbled face despondently, then ran the water hot in the sink, steam rising up. He liked the way his razor ran smoothly over his face, revealing clean strips of skin under the shaving foam. "Damn!" He exclaimed, as the blade caught his cheek. It stung sharply and Elliot knew. This was the first real sensation he'd felt since Kendall. A few drops of blood dripped into the sink, the red spreading slowly into the water. He rinsed his face, then sloshed his dry eyes with eye wash, blinking the subsequent tears away. 

Elliot returned to the bedroom and stood for a minute at the foot of the bed. He hoped that the lump still under the covers, Kathy, would stay asleep. He wondered if she was angry at him for the way he'd snapped at her in the squadroom two nights ago for the way he had kissed her, quick and unfeeling. He wondered if she had analyzed the way he had ignored her hands on his face, the way he had said "I love you.", like it was just one of those things you said to be polite. 

He went to the closet for his clothes, selecting one of his standard outfits. He could never pull off one of Fin's crazy vests, or Munch's fedoras. Fin was right, he looked like "the clean-cut, corporate type". A track suit hung beside his ties and he impulsively shoved it to the very back of the closet, burying the sudden nausea that crept up as he realized that he was just a step down on the class ladder from Greg Elliot and that outfit looked like what he had been wearing that afternoon in Forest Hills. 

Instinctively, he stuck his head in the twins' room on his way downstairs. They were snuggled into the quilts in deep morning sleep. How old were they again? Six? Eight? Ten? 

Like a zombie, Elliot walked downstairs and through the kitchen. By the time he began the drive to work, he still felt curiously numb and mechanical. 

Just off the Queensboro Bridge, there was a traffic jam. Cars were backed up for blocks and the air was filled with honking and shouting in addition to the pelting rain. It pounded on the windshield, resonating through the car. The acrid smell of exhaust pierced the air. Elliot pounded a fist into the dashboard in frustration before picking up his cell phone to call in to work. 

"Special Victims Unit. Detective Benson," he heard Olivia answer. 

"Hey, Liv," he said, "It's me." 

"Elliot? Is anything wrong?" She asked, the obvious concern in her voice paining him. "I'm caught in traffic. I'm going to be late." 

"Sure. Oh!," she interrupted, "Dr. Olivet's office called. They said she's got some free time around eleven today if you want to go see her." 

"Dr. Olivet? I never called her," he replied tersely. 

"Yeah," Olivia sighed audibly as if imparting bad news. Then she began again, much quieter, "Cragen did. He said you wouldn't want to see Skoda again after the whole Morris Commission thing and you probably wouldn't want to talk to Huang...." 

"Wait a minute," he interrupted angrily. "Are you saying you two discussed this?" 

"I didn't say that," came her disembodied voice over the phone. 

"And how did this subject come up?" 

"Elliot, calm down," she said gently, "Elizabeth called and I took the message, okay? She just repeated to me what Cragen told her." 

"Chrissake," he exhaled. The car in front of Elliot began to move again, inching along, and he followed right on its bumper. There was a moment of silence. 

"Call her back and sort it out with her. Do you need the number?" 

"I'll do it when I get in," he said flatly. 

"You should try to see her once," she prodded. 

"Why should I?" He countered stubbornly, half-aware of his childlike sound. 

"Look," he heard her sigh in defeat, "I don't know. I'll tell the Captain you're going to be late." 

"Thanks, Liv." 

He shut the phone. Traffic was running more-or-less normally again. 

********** 

Olivia looked up with a nervous, concerned smile when he came in the squadroom. Elliot appreciated it and nodded. He hung up his coat and turned back to go to desk. 

Then, as he looked around the office, a shimmer of panic passed over his nerves. His heart constricted and he gasped for air, seeing an unexpected person by the photocopier. He took an involuntary step backward as the man turned. Elliot blew out his breath slowly and blinked several times, gripping the corner of his desk. 

It wasn't Kendall. 

This man was a dead ringer for him, but he didn't have Kendall's unrepentant blue eyes or hardened face. 

Elliot felt a hand on his arm. 

"What's going on?" He turned to face Olivia. 

"Nothing." He shook it off. Olivia followed his gaze to the man at the photocopier. She'd been through the same scenario. He knew that she knew. 

"Let me get you a coffee," she said, heading off to the coffeepot. 

_I had no choice, _he chanted, the words banging in his head, _I had no choice._

__He sat down at his desk, repeating his desperate mantra. Olivia set his mug of coffee in front of him and hesitated before passing over a basket of fruit from her desk. 

"Eat something," she said quietly. He chose some blueberries and gave the basket back. They were a soft, overripe purple. He popped the first one into his mouth. 

One - _I had no choice._

__Two - _He wanted me to kill him._

__Three - _I killed someone._

__Four - _I killed him. I had no choice._

__

The sweet acidity of the blueberries burned all the way down his throat. 

********** 

The taste of blueberries was still strong in her mouth; she had been popping them since Elliot had left. Olivia could picture what his appointment with Elizabeth Olivet would be like. She leaned forward, propping her elbows on her desk and staring blankly at the empty chair across from her. Her minid wandered, imagining what Elliot was doing at this very minute. 

_Elliot shook hands with Elizabeth Olivet and she motioned for him to sit in the overstuffed green armchair across from her. She took a seat in her gray desk chair, notebook on her lap, and leaned forward. Her blue eyes bored into his and she began simply._

_"How are you feeling?"_

_Elliot braced himself._

_"Fine," he replied somewhat defensively. Elizabeth seemed to size him up, taking a moment before phrasing her question._

_"Tell me about your routine. Are you sleeping well?"_

_"Well enough."_

_"Are you eating normally?"_

_"I eat when I'm hungry." Elizabeth let out a nearly inaudible sigh._

_"Are you experiencing symptoms of panic attacks? Hyperventilation, night sweats...."_

_"I know what panic attacks are, Doctor."_

_"You're avoiding the question, Detective."_

_"Today," the patient admitted, "I thought I saw him." Elizabeth nodded, noting something in her book._

_"Eric Plummer?" She clarified. Olivia pulled her knees up to her chest before answering. She could still see his leering eyes and sunken face. She saw how he collapsed like a rag doll when she had shot him. She saw the officer check his gun and find it wasn't loaded._

_"Yeah," she said softly._

_"How did that make you feel?" Olivia couldn't look at the psychologist._

_"I don't know. Frightened, I guess. Out of control." The only sound in the room was the breathing of the two women and the relentless scratching of Elizabeth's pen in her notepad. Olivia thought she would crawl out of her skin._

_"All right. I'm going to list some emotions and you tell me, from zero to ten, how much you feel that emotion. Zero being 'not at all' and ten being 'all the time'._

_"Okay."_

_"Anger."_

_"Six, I guess." Elizabeth marked something down on a chart._

_"Depression."_

_"Seven?" Olivia wondered if seven was high enough to get her reported to I.A.B._

_"Fear."_

_"Seven." _

_"Anxiety."_

_"Six."_

__

_She lied through her teeth. She didn't know how she was supposed to rate these feelings when they constantly threatened to overwhelm her entire being. Elizabeth paused._

_"Guilt or remorse."_

_Olivia didn't answer. Elizabeth looked up from her notes and peered at the younger woman with what Olivia took to be compassion. Olivia's throat began to clench and she felt an inexplicable fluttering in her chest. Hot tears slid down her cheeks and she reached across the doctor for a tissue. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes, frantically trying to regain control of the situation._

_"It's all right to feel this way, Olivia."_

_The sympathy in the psychologist's voice made Olivia start crying again. It took her the rest of the appointment to calm down. _

_When she finished, she walked out and never went back._

"Olivia.......Olivia?" 

She raised her head to Fin's voice. 

"You don't look so good," he commented. 

"I'm fine," she said, faking a smile, "What's up?" 

"Cabot just called. You were supposed to be there so she could prep you for trial." 

"Damn!" 

"Better get over there." 

********** 

"Where's Olivia?" 

Fin answered Elliot's question. 

"She went over to talk to Cabot. She should be back soon." As if she had heard, Olivia came in the doors of the squadroom. 

"Hey," she greeted Elliot, "How'd it go?" 

"I survived," he said. Some feeling was hanging between them, almost tangible. Olivia swallowed hard. 

"Do you want to go for a walk?" She asked. 

"Now? 

"Sure." 

"It's raining." 

"So?" 

They ended up in Central Park. Olivia walked purposefully, a few steps ahead of Elliot, though she wasn't too sure where she was going. The air smelled like the rain that spilled from the sky in buckets. The partners were soaked to the skin, but neither of them really cared. 

A jogger ran past, wearing only shorts and a T-shirt. He slogged through the mud with determination, face red. 

"Talk about determination," Olivia commented as they entered an unfrequented dirt path. 

"I used to swim laps every day in college," Elliot said with a shrug. 

"I wish I had more time for that kind of thing." 

They kept pushing through the brush until they came to a clearing. Olivia moved to continue but Elliot began to speak. 

"Olivet is less intimidating than our Doc," he said. Olivia stopped and turned back to him. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and water ran down both their faces. 

"Yeah," she agreed. "She's done a lot of child psychology. George worked with serial killers." He didn't answer and she felt a bit foolish. She paused. "So how did it go?" 

"Not bad." 

"What does that mean?" 

"I tried to be cooperative. She asked a lot of questions about Kathy and my kids. I didn't really need that," he said, glancing down at his hands. He noticed absently that they were stained bright red from the blueberries he had eaten earlier. 

"Elliot, don't push your family away. Kathy's here for you on this," she said softly. "I'm here for you, too, okay? You had no choice." 

Elliot looked down at his partner and suddenly realized how old they had grown since they started in the SVU. He could see every case they had worked together etched on her face. They just listened as the rain fell stronger. 

"I don't want my kids to be afraid of me," he continued. Olivia looked into his eyes with complete understanding. She just nodded. He looked at his watch. "We should head back." The rain was letting up. He followed Olivia back toward the road. They rounded a bend and saw a man collapsed on the path. Olivia ran over to him and kneeled down in the mud, recognizing him as the jogger they had seen earlier. She shook him slightly, putting an ear to his mouth. 

"He's not breathing," she said anxiously as she tilted his head back, "Call 911." But Elliot already had his phone out. She only barely heard him report the accident as she pinched the man's nose and blew into his mouth. 

"I have to meet them at the road," Elliot called. Olivia didn't answer, placing her hands on the jogger's chest. A wind picked up, cutting through her wet clothing, but she kept trying to resuscitate him for what seemed like an eternity. The man's face seemed colder every time she put her mouth down to it. She didn't even register the yelling and clamouring up the path. Two paramedics appeared followed by Elliot. Olivia was completely absorbed in her movements and she wouldn't stop CPR. Elliot practically had to pull her off and she sat down in the mud in sheer exhaustion. 

He extended a hand to help her up, not quite understanding why she was so unwilling to stop rescusitating the man. The paramedics pulled out a defibrillator and shocked the fallen man's heart. Olivia put her hand in Elliot's and he saw her red-tinged fingers from the blueberries. He understood. She had the same stains on her hands as he did. 


End file.
